


No hoods barred

by Arabwel



Series: My Mating Games Shenanigans [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gags, M/M, Multi, Red Riding Hood Elements, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/pseuds/Arabwel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s the Disney versions of fairytales, squeaky clean and acceptable to parents. There are the originals, full of blood and gore where the little red is devoured, and the Big Bad is split open only to have his belly stuffed full of rocks. </p><p>And then there is this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No hoods barred

**Author's Note:**

> My entry to the Round 1 of the second Mating Games - Happily Ever After

There’s the Disney versions of fairytales, squeaky clean and acceptable to parents. There are the originals, full of blood and gore where the little red is devoured, and the Big Bad is split open only to have his belly stuffed full of rocks. 

And then there is this. 

She doesn’t wear a red hood; she doesn’t have to, not when her hair is a glorious halo of strawberry blonde. But the big bad wolf still devours her. 

Peter’s head is buried between her legs, his tongue delving deep inside her pussy as she writhes on the sheets, trying to grind herself against his face. But the hands that pin her thighs on the sheets are too strong and all she can do is wail into the gag, chasing the orgasm he denies her with a wicked smirk and another too-soft flick of his tongue against her clit that ratchets her desire higher. 

“That’s it, Peter... don’t let her come yet,” the low rumbling voice of the hunter makes her shiver; she feels Peter’s gasp as Chris twists his fingers inside the wolf, can hear the slick squelch of lube. Chris is taking his time, tormenting Peter just as the wolf is tormenting Lydia, taking his time. 

She closes her eyes and concentrates on feeling, her breath catching when Peter nips at her inner thighs, a hint of fang sharp but not enough to break the skin. It is enough to leave bruises, to go with the beard burn and she aches for more, for him to stop with the teasing and make her come already.

Lydia can feel him shudder between her legs, feel the sharp inhale of breath when Chris breaches Peter with his cock instead of his fingers, her eyes flutter open and she gasps at the sight of it, Peter’s proud back bent as the hunter slowly slides in balls-deep with a look of utter concentration on his face. 

When he nudges his hips, Peter wails and his back arches up, his mouth leaving her flesh for a moment only for Chris’s hand to come up and grab him by the neck, pressing his head back down where Lydia is slick and throbbing, full of want and envy because she’s so hollow, so close… 

Chris says something, too quiet for her to make out the words but she knows Peter had heard him. When the wolf moans and surges forward to wrap his lips around her clit and suck hard, she’s the one wailing, perfectly manicured nails rending at the silk sheets. 

It doesn’t take long until she’s panting and twitching, so close to the edge she feels tears burning in her eyes. Her teeth bite into the gag, trying to hold back the scream that is building up inside her. Everything throbs, from her nipples – still wet and raw from Chris’s mouth and beard – to her toes, every push of Peter’s tongue against her clit electrifying. 

His claws prick at the skin of her thighs and that’s what it takes to push her over the edge; pleasure rushes through her body in waves and she screams into the gag, screams until her throat is raw because Peter won’t stop, won’t let her fall back and she keeps coming and coming. 

What feels like an eternity and a blink passes until Peter pulls his head back, his face wet with her juices as he gasps with his head thrown back. She can faintly hear him beg and Chris grunt in acquiescence before Peter stills, his body spasming as he comes untouched against the sheets and slumps down, his harsh breath hot against the wet skin of her quivering thigh. 

Her eyes meet the hunter’s over Peter’s spent form; with a noise that sounds almost pained Chris thrusts once, twice and then he’s coming, too, filling Peter up with his seed. 

A minute passes, then two; Lydia wriggles impatiently and Peter stirs between them. He moves smoothly from underneath Chris, to take their weight off Lydia and to use his deft fingers, still sticky with her juices, to undo the gag. 

His kiss is soft, tongue probing the corners of her mouth gently. When he pulls back, she smiles at him, before she turns to face Chris who’s now sitting up, rubbing his neck with one large hand. The hunter smiles and leans over to kiss first Lydia, then Peter. 

As ever-afters go, theirs is a pretty good one.


End file.
